


the same damn hunger

by honeyvoiced



Category: Sex&Drugs&Rock&Roll (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fix-It, I started this fic in 2016 and decided thanks to COVID I'd finish it, Mild Alcohol Abuse, Useless Lesbians, fade-to-black, mention of pornography, some drunk kissing but no non- or dub-con, there's no actual smut in this fic it's just implied & referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23219854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyvoiced/pseuds/honeyvoiced
Summary: Her whole body wanted to heave forward and hug her at the sound of the word, needing something sturdier to hang onto than she’d had for a few months, but she stayed in her spot, rolling the cup of tea between her hands.
Relationships: Gigi Rock/Davida O'Dell
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As I said in the tags, this fic started in 2016 directly following the cancellation of SDRR with two scenes, and a partial outline. I decided about six months ago that I would finish it at some point, and I guess quarantine was the kick in the ass that I needed. Thank you to [Amanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlilly) for beta-reading, as always.

Davvy glanced down at her phone and leaned against the bar, deep in thought. She was torn - the decision had been bothering her all night. Staring at the screen, her eyes almost glazing over, she mentally chided herself for even considering what she was about to do.

_ GG: Don't worry about it, you can spend the night ;) _

That had been the last text she'd received before showing up without answering at Gigi's front door almost a month earlier. The other woman had been so antsy that night, trying to appear calm and collected on the surface - smug, even, that she'd done so well for herself after leaving her cheating ex. Unfortunately, at the time, Davvy was flattered. 

Months earlier, she might have had enough pride and dignity to say 'no' to being what was  _ clearly  _ a pawn in some kind of experimental revenge plot, but the hopefulness that 'experimentation' would turn into 'established' had rooted itself in the back of her head. It was the exact sort of thing that she loved to tease her friends for doing, but there she was, following Gigi Rock around as if she were literally floating on a heart-shaped cloud.

She'd been opening the message and staring at it almost every day since that night - since being caught with her tongue in the mouth of, and hands up the skirt of, another girl - but couldn't bring herself to decide if it was worth it.

Pursuing 'straight' girls wasn't her  _ thing.  _ They were generally annoying, either too 'no homo' to justify being with a girl or simply clingy - full of themselves and proud that they'd landed what they were looking for as if they'd accomplished something by having a lesbian become interested in a girl. Still, Gigi was sweet. Cocky, definitely, but in all the right ways, still so unsure and questioning about others, and able to be cracked open for more honest answers and thoughts with very little prodding. 

And  _ God,  _ did she ever learn quickly.

_ That  _ was the real cause of the current conflict, as she downed the last of her drink and looked around for where she'd set her jacket. She  _ liked  _ Gigi, even when she was dating her guitar player. It was nice having someone else she was on the same wavelength with, especially in an industry as full of snakes as theirs was. She was funny, and genuinely nice, and talented, and pretty, and  _ God  _ those lips…

_ 'Haven't talked to you in a while, we should get a drink if you're up.' _

She was barely even aware she'd sent the message until her phone buzzed almost immediately back and she glanced down.

_ GG: It's 2 am. _

Right. Beneath everything else - the weak attempt at experimenting for her bucket list; doing shots with her band; showing up at some obnoxious musical just to piss off her ex - Gigi was still the good girl. The truth was, she shed the image well for the public. It was probably why Davvy had been so surprised when that insecure nervousness Gigi had shown that first night they'd met had proven to expand far beyond her experience - or lack thereof - with girls, and into almost every aspect of her life. 

Unsure of how to proceed with the blatant rejection, she moved to tuck her phone away when it buzzed again. She could practically  _ hear  _ the sigh in the other girl's tone, even through the text.

_ GG: How about we make it coffee. Urban Vintage, 8 am? _

Davvy glanced at the time and sighed. She still needed a half hour to get home, at least, and then another twenty minutes to tipsily eat the remainder of the pizza waiting for her in the fridge. 

_ 'Sounds good.' _

She was going to regret it in the morning, but if all went well, she'd hopefully be forgetting all about that annoyance by midday. The coffee would help.

* * *

Gigi dug at a soft spot on the worn wooden table in front of her until a piece splintered away, looking up just in time to watch a couple more people slide in through the door of the cafe. Her eyes adjusted to the backlight and she squinted for a moment before turning her attention back down to the table, disappointed. As embarrassing as discovering that Davvy  _ apparently  _ had better things to do in the middle of their night out had been, it might have been easier if it hadn’t happened in front of her ex, right after she’d finished bragging. 

“Hey,” Davvy practically sighed as she folded herself into the small wooden seat on the opposite side of the table. Startled, Gigi gripped her paper cup hard enough to almost spill hot water on herself.

“Hey,” her voice was laced with annoyance, a combination of the other girl’s casual attitude and her near-scalding experience. “You’re late.”

“You’re nitpicking,” the other girl chuckled, scratching at her jaw as she sat back comfortably in her seat and turned to look at the chalkboard menu behind the counter nearby.

“You -” Gigi started, but gave up immediately, glaring straight ahead as she took a sip of her water. It was too hot, burning the end of her tongue, but she ignored it, keeping the cup to her face as she let the sudden wateriness of her eyes dissipate. 

Davvy got up without a word, heading to the counter to order and leaving the much more high-strung singer to her own thoughts yet again. 

She did miss having her around, among other things. First and foremost, she really  _ had _ been one of the first friends she’d made since moving to New York, apart from her band, which hadn’t really worked out, and she wasn’t in much of a position to be picky. Besides, aside from  _ the incident _ , as she’d mentally been categorizing it, she still felt like if there was anyone she could trust, it was Davvy. 

“So,” the girl in question slid back into her own seat and smiled easily, clutching a black coffee between both hands. “It’s been a minute. Heard you got a new band.”

Gigi picked at one of her cuticles, shrugging and trying to seem like the conversation was anything but uncomfortable and embarrassing. “Yeah. New band.” 

It sounded cold and stilted, and she could feel herself softening with every passing minute of being in Davvy’s company, so she mercifully tacked on, “We have a gig, later. A small one.”

She hadn’t meant for it to sound like an invitation and wasn’t sure if it was at all - a quick glance up at the girl across from her’s face showed an expression telling her she had no idea either. The pair of them awkwardly fell into silence for a moment.

“I won’t keep you that long, then.”

Gigi sat up a little, eyebrows slowly raising as she waited for the other girl to reveal what had prompted the 2 am text.

“I wanted to apologize. Even though we weren’t -”

“I  _ know  _ we weren’t a couple,” Gigi cut her off, “It just felt like that was the direction it -”

“The direction that you wanted it to be headed in? For you… or to make Flash jealous?”

_ That  _ shut her up. She sat back in stunned silence for a moment before a small, humorless chuckle escaped her lips. Turning to glance out the window, she shook her head, but before she had a chance to make her rebuttal, Davvy continued.

“Look. You two were together for a long time. I get it. I’ve been hung up on exes before. But between being used for an experiment and being used to make some guy not even worth your time jealous? It was getting a little old.” 

She leaned forward in her seat. “And I thought, maybe when the dust settled, we could try again. As  _ friends.”  _

Not wanting to blow her collected facade, Gigi pretended to think over the offer for a moment. Her whole body wanted to heave forward and hug her at the sound of the word, needing something sturdier to hang onto than she’d had for a few months, but she stayed in her spot, rolling the cup of tea between her hands.

“Okay,” she finally ceded. 

“Truce?”

“Truce.” 

She held back her own smile while she watched the one on Davvy’s face spread, turning her attention down to her drink for a moment. “I actually do have to get going, though, I’ll uh, get ahold of you later.” 

“I could give you a ride, if you wanted.” Davvy offered, “I w- ”

“That’s okay.” She cut her off smoothly, shaking her head slightly as she collected her bag. “I want to walk. Clear my head.”

“I could walk you,” Davvy offered.

“I said we could try ‘friends’ again, it doesn't mean we have to be attached at the hip.” 

Chuckling in disbelief, she shook her head, then held her hands up in defeat.

“Fine. Talk to you later.” 

Davvy settled back into her own seat as Gigi weaved around their table and headed for the door. She could feel her staring, but steeled her resolve and refused to look back as she stepped outside and let the door clatter shut loudly behind herself.

* * *

_ Venue _ had recently changed hands of ownership, which was the entire reason that Davvy was going to head down there and get a drink, even though none of her other friends were available - it wasn’t the sudden spiteful desire to slam a few shots alone, and then cure her loneliness with whoever else was out that night doing the same. 

She’d seen a handful of shows there, and the bar was too well-equipped with both good liquor and good service to be stuck in the hands of the skeeziest manager on the east coast. Apparently, a few others had the same plan as she did - scope the place out, see if it was worth a resurgence or maybe even trying to get her name down for a show or ten. The bar was packed, and everyone seemed to be in a better mood than they usually were, given their location.

Whoever had been on stage had clearly just finished their set, because conversation was king and the buzzing of everyone’s voices sounded almost deafeningly loud.

Snaking through the crowd and managing to squeeze up to the bar, Davvy leaned over the railing to peer at the spirits stacked against the wall.

_ “I didn’t realize that she even did secret shows.” _

_ “Well, you know that’s either a really good or a really bad sign.” _

_ “I doubt it’s bad, after all of that.” _

Gnawing on the inside of her cheek and waiting impatiently for the clearly overwhelmed bartender to make her way over, Davvy tried to tune out the conversations happening on every side of her.

_ “Didn’t her album get canceled or something?” _

_ “Just postponed, I think. Something with production.” _

“What’ll it be?”

Brightening up as she was finally addressed, Davvy gestured at the bottles and raised her voice over the sounds around her.

“Can I get a screwdriver and a shot on the side? Both Stoli.” 

With a quick nod, the bartender turned away from her to make her order, and Davvy turned her attention back to the empty stage, craning her neck to see over the crowd that separated her from it. It was a decent size - enough room for her to start feeling herself without the awkward excess space that seemed to call for backup dancers or extensive choreography. 

She turned back to the bar as her drinks were slid over to her, digging a crumpled twenty from her pocket and handing it over.

“Does your new manager have a card or something I could take?”

The bartender laughed, juggling her change. “He does, but I’ve been handing them out all night, I’m fresh out. He’s in at three tomorrow, if you want to try your luck at calling him.”

Sighing disappointedly, Davvy forced a quick, tight smile, and then picked up both her drink and shot from the bar.

“Thanks anyway.”

As she turned to begin mapping out her escape plan to find a quiet corner, she smacked directly into Gigi, almost upending both drinks onto the floor.

“Shit, sorry -” The other woman started to apologize, reaching out and touching her arm to steady her before recognizing her, then withdrawing her hand like she’d been burned. “ _ Davvy _ ?”

Davvy eyed the accusatory, almost angry look on her face for a moment, then downed the shot in her hand before proceeding.

“Hey!” Her cheery tone wasn’t as strong as it usually would have been as she winced through the afterburn of the vodka. “What’re you doing here?”

Glancing over Gigi’s shoulder, she looked for any signs of the other members of the woman’s band that she usually traveled with, but there wasn’t a single familiar face to be seen. 

“I told you that we had a show tonight,” Gigi’s reply brought her attention back to her. “Are you… did you come here to see me?”

Unable to help herself, Davvy laughed out loud.

“No? God, Geej, that’s… no. This is all a ridiculous coincidence. I heard that casting-couch weirdo was out of here and wanted to see if I could get a chance to play.”

Her explanation seemed to ease the other woman’s concerns about being stalked, and she glanced around pityingly for a moment.

“Yeah, well, you and the rest of Brooklyn.”

Chuckling, Davvy shook her head a little and was  _ about  _ to offer Gigi her untouched drink, prepared to part ways and let her enjoy the rest of her night when a tall, thin man seemed to appear out of thin air behind her.

“Kari’s taking off, did you get the drinks?”

Clearing her throat, loudly, Gigi gestured to Davvy with a little nod of her head and sidestepped to put some distance between herself and the man.

“This is Davvy,” she introduced.

  
  


“Yeah, yeah, Davvy O’Dell, I know you.” The man took her hand, shaking it quickly. From up close, with his floppy hair and square glasses, he looked no older than twenty-one. “I’m Griffin, it’s nice to meet you.”

Clearing her throat a second time, Gigi dropped her gaze to the floor.

“Griff is, uh… he’s in the band.”

Blinking, bewildered, Davvy let her mouth fall open in question, but Gigi beat her to it.

“I told you that I have a new band. I guess we had more catching up to do than I realized.”

“You should have a drink with us!” Griffin invited, and Davvy could see Gigi clenching her jaw from where she stood.

“Oh, I don’t want to impose, you guys should celebrate together,” she began, but the appearance of one more young man interrupted her.

“Hey, how long does it take to order drinks?”

“Dude, remember that show battle of the bands night we went to a few months ago?” Griffin seemed unphased by his annoyance. He gestured at Davvy, and she watched the realization dawn on his face, too.

“Oh, shit!” 

Fully rolling her eyes, now, Gigi crossed her arms and then elbowed past Davvy towards the bar.

“I’m going to get the drinks.”

“I’m a huge fan, man.” The newest addition to their growing circle announced. “Can we buy you a drink or something?”

Neither of them waited for a response, before Griffin called over Davvy’s shoulder, “Gigi, get another one for her, too!”

Davvy didn’t even have to turn around and look to know the exact look of frustration that Gigi was likely giving in response to the way her evening was unfolding. 

She was led to their reserved table closer to the stage, and mercifully shielded a little from the loud energy of the rest of the space.

“How d’you know Gigi?” The other ‘fan’ who had yet to introduce himself asked, tossing himself into the seat next to her.

“She’s an old friend,” Davvy lied, smiling stiffly. “Sorry I missed your show, if I’d known you guys were here tonight I’d have come earlier.”

That seemed to excite the first two men, but the other man that they’d come to sit with had yet to say a single word. Slouched in his seat leisurely and watching the people around them with a lazy, self-assured smirk, he turned to catch Davvy’s eye and quirked an eyebrow.

“I didn’t catch your name.”

“Davvy.” In only a few words, he had managed to exude absolute frigidness, but before Davvy could properly size him up, Gigi returned. “Sorry - did I take your spot?”

Gigi opened her mouth to answer, letting her bandmates take their drinks from the armload she was carrying.

“That’s alright, she can sit right here with me.”

The man, who had clearly established himself as the alpha, patted the spot on the loveseat next to himself invitingly, and Gigi stepped wordlessly over Davvy’s legs to reach him.

“What are we talking about?” she asked, a tad apprehensively.

“How you two knew each other,” Griffin replied.

“Old friends,” Gigi unknowingly repeated the same lie.

“How old?” The other boy next to Griffin asked.

Gigi turned to Davvy and locked eyes with her for a moment, before surprising her by tilting her head and ‘subtly’ licking her lips.

“Old enough,” she answered, without meeting anyone else’s eye. The man beside her nudged her with a small chuckle, and she turned to smile slyly at him.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes as the shock wore off, Davvy gripped her own drink just a little bit tighter and kept her temper in check. Typical Gigi - it was a work of pure dumbassery on her own part to think that she’d ever change.

The boy next to Griffin whistled lowly, then winced when he was smacked in the leg.

“Bo,” Griffin huffed, “Get a grip.” 

“Yeah,” the man that Gigi was currently leaning into added. “Pick your jaw up off of the floor, horndog.”

“We should do a shot,” Davvy announced, standing up quickly. 

“I’ll come get them with you,” Gigi offered, beginning to stand up, herself.

“Nope,” Davvy quickly weaved around her own vacant seat, trying to lose the other woman before she could follow. “You just got drinks - sit down.  _ Sit.”  _

She hadn’t meant to sound as stern as she did, but it did the trick, and the other woman quickly returned to her seat just as Davvy looked away and headed towards the bar for a moment to breathe. 

Maybe ‘friends’ was exactly the sort of arms-length distance that she needed to keep from Gigi if she wanted to retain any semblance of respect for her. It wasn’t like she  _ expected  _ her to come running back into her arms just because she had apologized, but having even a modicum of tact when she was around seemed like a fair request.

She reached the bar once more, and the bartender shot her a glance as she grabbed for a nearby bottle.

“I’ll be one second,” she promised, vanishing down the length of the bar again.

Glancing back at the table that she’d just left, Davvy sighed quietly to herself. Maybe she’d just leave - text Gigi later that she got sick and had to run, something neutral and faultless. Sitting there and watching her flirt with her guitar player all night, who was the human embodiment of ego - Davvy could tell by just a few minutes in his orbit - wasn’t her idea of a good time. 

But she wasn’t a quitter. Nor was she too shy or socially unwell to go through one awkward encounter.  _ Plus,  _ they’d have booze. She would manage just fine.

“What’ll it be?”

“Five Stoli, please. And limes.”

Setting a tray down in front of Davvy’s spot at the bar, the woman behind it reached for the bottle and began to pour.

* * *

Gigi stretched out contentedly and then immediately gasped in pain as her knuckles collided with the headboard of her bed, drawing her hand back to her chest quickly and nursing it with a scowl on her face.

Remembering the night before, she groaned quietly under her breath and rolled over to the sight of another arm in the bed, stretched up from the floor and gripping the mattress where the fitted sheet had popped off of the one corner.

She was still wearing all of her clothes from last night, shoes included, and while she had done some absolutely idiotic things while drunk, she knew that getting undressed and then re-dressed in her same clothes before getting into bed would not be a part of the list. Breathing a sigh of relief, and sat upright and ignored the pounding in her head, leaning over the side of the bed to check who she had shared it with.

Manny, her guitarist, was sprawled out - entirely naked - face down on her floor. 

Wracking her brain and trying to piece together all of the events from the night before, Gigi laid back on her pillows as the room started to spin and closed her eyes.

Her band had invited Davvy to drink with them, she’d bought them all multiple shots, Gigi had excused herself to the bathroom when a couple of girls came over to introduce themselves and Davvy seemed a little too on her game, and then everything after that was a blur. She didn’t even remember going back to her table, what time they’d left, or how she’d gotten home. She definitely didn’t remember Manny coming with her, or anything that involved him taking all of his clothes off.

Moaning in his sleep, and pulling his arm down from the bed to wrap around himself, Manny shifted around and Gigi froze on the spot, peeking over the side of the bed to make sure he was still asleep before sliding down to the foot of the bed and climbing over the footboard to make her escape. 

The concrete floors were great for silently sneaking in and out, but the knee-high boots she was still wearing were not. One had clearly slid down her foot in her sleep, and as she made contact with the ground she promptly fell over, just managing to catch herself on one of the shaggy throw rugs without breaking her arms on the floor itself.

Manny jolted upright, blearily looking around and then glancing down at himself, slowly pulling the nearest sheet over to cover himself.

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know, my phone’s dead,” Gigi groaned, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “Why are you naked?”

“I always sleep naked,” Manny sighed, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her. “Don’t… flatter yourself, it wasn’t like that.”

Snorting and rolling her eyes, Gigi worked at peeling the boots off, not wanting to risk breaking an ankle on her second attempt at getting up to make coffee.

“Trust me, I’m not flattered, more so just concerned about why you would get naked while I was asleep beside you.”

“You didn’t fall asleep in here.”

“Huh?” 

“I said you didn’t fall asleep in here. We got home at like, four AM, you said ‘ _ everybody, split up’ _ , then called dibs on your parents’ room, and that was it.” Manny reached over, grabbing his underwear from his pile of clothes, and stood up, letting the sheet fall. Quickly averting her gaze, Gigi kicked her shoes across the floor and stood up. “I passed out in here and  _ you  _ came and crawled into bed like a half-hour later. Don’t worry, you kept your hands to yourself.”

“Why did we even come here in the first place?” Gigi asked, trying to wrap her head around all of the new information.

Manny shrugged, hopping into his pants.

“You insisted. I didn’t want to take the train, anyway.”

Watching as he redressed himself, Gigi tried to blink the sleepiness from her eyes.

“Okay… okay. Are you heading out?”

“Yeah,” Manny stretched, then fixed her with a small, genuine smile. “I much prefer my own bed to this floor. I’ll see you at practice this weekend.”

“Right.” Gigi tried to force a smile in return, and felt a sharp pain shoot through her entire jaw and directly join the rolling headache that had started in her temples.

Listening for the sounds of him leaving the apartment before getting undressed, Gigi dug through her drawers and found something considerably more comfortable to wear before wandering out into the kitchen to make some coffee.

She plugged her phone in as she went, and leaned against the counter staring at the screen while she waited for it to finally reboot. For a few moments, the only sound was the coffee percolator and her own slightly laboured breathing. Doing even just a simple lap around her own apartment was a difficult task given the level of hangover that she was nursing.

“Hey, if you’re making a pot, can I have some?”

Dropping her phone as the screen lit up and stifling a small scream, Gigi whirled around to the source of the other voice in her apartment with a hand to her heart. Davvy sat up, poking her head over the back of the couch, and smiled hopefully.

“Is that a ‘no’?”

“When -” Gigi breathed, clearing her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“You invited me, nay,  _ dragged me _ back here.” Davvy stood up, now, stretching out comfortably and wandering closer to the kitchen. “Something about this big empty apartment and not wanting the night to be over.”

Gigi held her breath as Davvy wandered  _ right  _ up into her personal space, then sidled past and opened the cupboard that housed Johnny’s stash of cheaper emergency liquor. 

“In fact,” Davvy continued, “You promised that we would keep the party going, and then you immediately went to bed,” she pointed at Johnny and Cat’s closed door, “and didn’t come back out.”

“Oh,” Gigi felt the blush of embarrassment heat her face, but couldn’t think of anything to say to relieve herself of it.

Grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the front of the cupboard and pulling off the cap with a satisfying ‘pop’, Davvy poured a little into the mug on the counter and reached for another, repeating the gesture.

“Oh, I don’t -”

“Trust me, it’ll help the hangover,” Davvy promised, before taking the coffee pot from the maker and filling each mug. She handed one to Gigi, smiling.

“Thank you,” she breathed, sipping from the still too-hot coffee and closing her eyes comfortably. “I didn’t make an ass of myself last night, did I?”

“Eh…” Davvy rocked her head back and forth a little, as if weighing her thoughts.

Groaning defeatedly, Gigi leaned back against the counter and sipped her coffee again before replying.

“I’m never drinking again.”

“I’m surprised you did at all. I thought that wasn’t really your style.”

“I don’t have a  _ style _ ,” Gigi insisted, embarrassment flooding her entire body again. “I just don’t get the point of all of it. Besides, I drink. I  _ like  _ drinking. I just don’t usually get blackout drunk in front of my entire band and… you.”

“Well, it was very impressive how you pounded those shots and then immediately threw up in the bathroom for a half-hour.”

“I did not - well, actually, I don’t remember. Maybe I did.” Gigi blushed, averting her gaze from the other woman’s face for a moment. Davvy laughed, loudly, startling her.

“Maybe you didn’t. I wasn’t there. I’m starving, though.”

Setting her own spiked coffee down on the counter and turning to dig through the fridge, Davvy was stopped in her tracks by Gigi’s protest.

“There’s no food. I haven’t been shopping.”

“Hm,” Davvy closed the condiment-only fridge and picked up her coffee again to take a much more generous sip. “Then I guess that’s my cue to venture out. You should probably shower. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Hey -” Gigi started to protest, though she truthfully didn’t have a leg to stand on in her own defence. The truth was, the idea of Davvy  _ leaving  _ and letting her crawl back into bed to sleep off the rest of her hangover was extremely appealing. “Alright. Fine. Bye.”

Snorting, Davvy dumped the last dregs of her coffee into the sink and set the mug down, heading back over to the couch and swiping her jacket off of the back of it.

“Seriously, maybe an Advil, too.”

“Okay, good _ bye,  _ Davvy!” Gigi replied, loudly, setting her own mug down.

The other woman only laughed in response, heading for the door.

“Have a nice nap!”

Waving over her shoulder dismissively, Gigi headed back towards her own room, sliding the massive barn door aside just enough to weasel her way inside before letting it slam shut behind her.

Leaning back against it, she waited for the sound of Davvy leaving, and let out a tiny sigh of relief. Having both her and Manny come over had been risky enough. Knowing deep down that it had everything to do with how empty and cold the apartment felt with both of her parents quite literally sleeping at the studio while they worked on the behind-the-scenes was even worse. It had been a close call, letting herself be so overtly vulnerable like that. Davvy was one thing, she had seen Gigi like that before - not that she was allowed the privilege, anymore - but to drag her new band into it had been foolish and unprofessional. 

But now, she was alone again, with her -  _ ugh  _ \- thoughts, and she didn’t feel any better than she did with people in her space. 

Wandering over to the bed and pulling the pillows and blankets aside to fix the corner of the fitted sheet, Gigi felt the coffee - and whiskey - finally spark to life in her system. Davvy had been right, it was already helping her hangover, though she knew that food was the other piece of the puzzle that she was currently missing. Too awake now, to go back to bed, she wandered to the bathroom and left her clothes in a pile near the door before turning on the water in the shower.

It heated up mercifully quickly, and she wasted no time jumping into the stream, letting the smudged makeup, grime, and general uneasiness about the previous night wash off of her and swirl around the drain at her feet.


	2. Chapter 2

Gigi _really_ didn’t know how good she had it in her neighbourhood. For someone who moved to New York with zero experience or understanding of what she was getting into, she had somehow instantly found the most beautiful loft - a total hole in the wall in the center of a relatively industrial area that was _quiet_ , even while being within walking distance of almost all of the amenities she could possibly need. 

Davvy was jealous, she wouldn’t lie.

Her own apartment was her oasis, but it had taken several years of trial-and-error to actually land on the perfect place. Even then, _perfect_ was a little generous. The air conditioner was loud, which was a pain in the ass on summer nights, but it was manageable. The fridge door stuck a little when she accidentally slammed it too hard, but she could deal with that, too, because the kitchen space was big enough to be considered mythical for a space in Brooklyn - an _affordable_ space in Brooklyn, at that.

After waking up hungry in Gigi’s apartment, the idea of going back home, where there was a frozen pizza and a bottle of ibuprofen waiting for her, was extremely appealing to Davvy, but the guilt gnawed away at her as she pictured the other woman all alone with all of that square-footage to herself. She had seemed pretty concerned about her forgotten behaviour from the night before, and while she did deserve to squirm a _little_ bit, she also deserved to actually eat something and move on from the hangover that had been induced.

Walking from Gigi’s block around to the main road and feeling like she had rejoined society, Davvy crammed her hands into her pockets and tried to ignore the uncomfortable dryness in her mouth. The first thing she needed was a bottle of mouthwash - the combination of last night’s alcohol and that morning’s coffee was making her feel sick. Secondly, she would need water. It was uncharacteristically warm outside, and while it would normally be pleasant and welcome, the heat on her skin was only serving to make Davvy feel even more sluggish and tired.

She walked until she reached Pop’s - a personal favourite that she had been missing for the last month. When she had been spending more time at Gigi’s place, the two of them had gorged themselves more than necessary on late-night pasta leftovers and last-minute-decision sandwiches from the deli, but since they’d stopped talking, she hadn’t been back. 

Heading inside and closing her eyes to take in the scent of freshly toasted bread and an almost overwhelming combination of dressings and condiments, Davvy paused to get her bearings, then headed to the counter and ordered a pastrami on rye. Gigi had always liked the bread there - she couldn’t get a single meal without complimenting it each time. Against her better judgment, Davvy doubled her order, and then headed over to the wall to lean against it while she waited. She was doing her a favour, as a friend. She’d take her the sandwich, make sure she hadn’t drowned in her own vomit, and then be on her merry way back to her _own_ apartment.

…Unless Gigi _wanted_ to hang out. She didn’t have any plans for the day except to be hungover, and maybe take a nap.

She’d been so needy and insistent the night before, but it had been sweet. Having Gigi that excited to have her over still made her feel overwhelmed with affection, even if the context had changed massively. Hearing her sneak off to join her guitar player after they’d gone to sleep in separate rooms had brought up feelings that were a little less warm and fuzzy, but she’d been doing a good job of squashing them away so far. Their quiet morning together had been nice - it brought up feelings of nostalgia and domesticity that Davvy was also trying to squash. It wasn’t her place to feel anything resembling jealousy or sweetness - not with Gigi, not anymore.

Retrieving their order - as well as some water - as soon as it was ready, Davvy headed back out into the street and ignored the now uncomfortable heat on her neck and shoulders. It had been pleasant on the way in, but her hangover was catching up with her.

Luckily, the walk back to Gigi’s seemed shorter than it had been the other way, and the wait for the elevator was mercifully short. Pushing her string of good luck one step further, Davvy tried the door, chuckling to herself when she found that it wasn’t locked in her absence. For all of Gigi’s fears about the big city, she never seemed to shake all of her small-town bad habits.

She could hear Gigi shuffling around in her bedroom through the slightly cracked door, so she made a commotion of shutting the front door loudly and taking heavy steps into the apartment, not wanting to startle her.

_“Dad?”_ Gigi’s steps got closer and then the door slid open even further, Gigi appearing in her pajamas before Davvy could correct her. “Oh.”

“Just me,” she replied apologetically, before holding the bag up. “I brought you a sandwich.”

If Gigi planned to snap at her for scaring her or inviting herself back into her loft without permission, the bag in Davvy’s hand visibly changed her mind.

“Fine,” she huffed.

Closing the distance between the two of them, Gigi swiped the bag from her hand and set it on the countertop. 

“Do you want another coffee?”

“Sure,” Davvy replied, impressed with the sudden hospitality. Sitting on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island, she watched as Gigi puttered around the kitchen space and retrieved their same mugs from earlier. Pulling the sandwiches out carefully, she decided that they’d need plates and stood up to join Gigi in the kitchen, both of them wordlessly weaving around each other in quiet harmony. She had definitely missed this part of their morning routine, too. 

“So,” Davvy said, taking the dishware back to the island and plating the sandwiches, “Where is your dad?”

Sliding her a fresh cup of coffee before taking her own seat, Gigi waved one hand dismissively and sipped her own coffee before replying.

“He and Cat are at the studio, writing mostly.”

"All night?" Davvy asked, before taking the first bite of the sandwich. It was every bit as good as she'd been anticipating - it had been far too long since she'd been back to Pop's.

"Pretty much," Gigi replied tiredly, pulling her own sandwich apart and then lifting it as if about to take a bite, before continuing to talk. "I honestly only see them when I go in. At least that's how it’s been for the last week."

"Wow." Davvy considered what exactly that meant for Gigi - all alone in the massive loft by herself, only really having company when she was with her band performing, rehearsing, or in the studio. The Gigi that she knew never coped well with loneliness - even the idea of being _potentially_ lonely was usually enough to make her panic.

Gigi just shrugged in response, finally taking a bite. Her entire body seemed to sag forward in relief at that first sign of food, and her reaction made Davvy laugh to herself, despite the sharp look it earned her from the other woman.

"They must be getting a lot done, at least," Davvy offered, trying to soothe the situation.

"Yeah," Gigi nodded. "I haven't seen either of them so productive before. I mean, my mom, maybe. But not with something she really cared about, not like this."

“That’s a good thing, then, right?” 

Gigi seemed to roll the thought around before answering. Davvy had been surprised to learn how selfless she was when they’d first met. For a twenty-something-year-old rich girl who magically fell into fame because of her family and being able to get in the right rooms with the right people every time, Gigi had a sort of soft, nurturing side to her that most people assumed wasn’t there without looking.

“Yeah.” After a moment, Gigi nodded decisively, as if mostly convincing herself. “Yeah, it’s a really good thing. And they work really well together.”

Ah yes, the _other_ reason Gigi probably felt at least a little guilty for having the _audacity_ to feel lonely when she spent her nights by herself. It was every child-of-divorce’s wet dream to come home one day and find out their parents had reunited, fallen back in love, and were perfectly happy rebuilding their family. Gigi had hit the jackpot on life - talent, a career, money, fame, and a perfect family. She’d had to prune a few rotting branches from that last tree, but the point stood, and if Davvy knew Gigi even half as well as she thought she did, she knew that she’d have had to have been reeling with guilt over feeling sorry for herself for even one moment.

“Y’know what?” Gigi set her sandwich back onto the plate and slid down from her seat. “I have a headache. I think I need to eat this laying down.”

“Oh.” Davvy stood as well, nodding quickly and clearing her throat. “Yeah, sure.”

Picking up her plate and her coffee, Gigi started towards her bedroom door, glancing back over her shoulder at Davvy as she picked up her own sandwich, ready to put it back into the paper bag.

“Davvy? You coming?”

Realizing that she wasn’t being kicked out at all - the opposite, in fact - she tried to keep the grin from her face and dropped her sandwich back onto its plate.

“Yeah, I’ll get us some napkins. And water.”

“Any requests for movies?” Gigi called back, finally rounding the corner and vanishing into her bedroom.

“No requests, just vetoes,” Davvy called back, still fighting off the grin that was threatening to take over her face permanently. “No musicals.”

It was quiet, after that, and Davvy did everything she could not to literally laugh out loud in sheer giddiness. Gigi wasn’t inviting her into her space for _that,_ but she was still inviting her in. That bedroom was a sacred space and knowing that Gigi had decided - at least for the time being - that Davvy was allowed back into it was heavy progress in the right direction.

Joining Gigi once she’d gotten a better grip on herself - and her facial expression - Davvy carefully set down her plate and handed Gigi a bottle of water.

“What did you decide on?”

“Nothing, yet,” Gigi huffed, flicking through her _Netflix_ queue and sighing when she finally came across a non-musical option. 

“Y’know, I always took you as more of a _PS I love you_ sort of movie-watcher.”

“What?” Gigi pouted, turning to her and gesturing at the TV with the remote in her hand. “I like action movies. You’ve seriously never seen this?”

Glancing at the screen again, Davvy squinted at the small preview-poster for the movie that Gigi had picked. She didn’t recognize the title, but it looked like every other action movie from the last five years - an old dirt-covered white guy glaring at the camera.

“No, I haven’t. But I’m always open to new experiences. Let’s do it.”

Snorting in disbelief, Gigi hit ‘play’ and tossed the remote aside gently, digging into her sandwich again.

“Thank you, again, for the food,” she said, covering her mouth with the back of one hand while she spoke. 

“Thanks for letting me crash - and for letting me back in,” Davvy replied, taking a gamble and softly nudging Gigi with her knee - just to see her reaction. She didn’t complain, just letting the jostling movement rock her aside and then back into place comfortably. It was nice to know that - platonic - physical contact wasn’t off the table.

“What would you have done if I had locked you out?” Gigi asked, talking quietly over the opening studio introductions. 

“Thrown rocks at your bedroom window, probably,” Davvy joked, glancing over out of the corner of her eye when Gigi laughed under her breath.

The two of them fell quiet, after that, settling into their movie and finishing their sandwiches. Gigi wordlessly handed Davvy the bottle of painkillers from her nightstand, and they shared the bottle of water until it was empty and joined the growing mess on the floor by the bed.

* * *

Waking up with an uncomfortable crick in her neck and one arm fully asleep, Gigi squinted in the darkness of her bedroom and tried to make out her surroundings. She had no idea when she’d fallen asleep that afternoon, but it was dark outside now, and even though she’d been wearing pajamas to begin with, she hadn’t remembered to turn on the air conditioning and she felt sticky and uncomfortable from the heat. 

Davvy stirred beside her in the bed, and she froze on the spot, remembering the details of how they’d ended up where they were. It was innocent - they’d fallen asleep watching movies together. The ‘nap’ had been much needed for both of their hangovers, but the other night before paired with falling asleep too early this time had clearly thrown their internal clocks off. A quick glance at her too-bright phone screen told her that it was already after 10 PM.

It was one of the better sleeps that she’d had in a while, though. Despite the uncomfortable position she’d woken up in, Gigi’s sleep had been completely dreamless for the first time in a long time. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she felt ready to take on the world - or, rather, she would have been if it weren’t already nighttime.

She was restless, though; full of energy and knowing that she likely wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep at a responsible time. Davvy rolled onto her side and clutched at Gigi’s abandoned pillow - but didn’t wake. It looked like she was sleeping just as peacefully as Gigi had been a few moments earlier. Not wanting to ruin it for her - and having at least a little bit of hope that maybe Davvy would manage to sleep through the entire night so that at least one of them was back on schedule - Gigi silently slipped out of the bed and stepped into her slippers. Pushing the bedroom door open just enough to sneak out of it, she headed into the living room and grabbed the other woman’s jacket from the couch and pulled it on.

It smelled like Davvy’s perfume - and a little bit like booze, which she assumed had to do with their night out with her band - and it was so wonderfully _her_ that Gigi found herself tucking her face into the collar and pulling it up around herself a little tighter. _Like a hug,_ she thought, before squashing that confusing thought away and heading for the door.

She needed some fresh air, and ironically enough, some alone time. She knew that the reason she’d had such a good sleep was that it was the first one - sober - that she wasn’t alone for, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it was specifically Davvy that had that effect on her. Even when she was mad at her, she had found herself wanting to reach out for advice some days. The other woman had a sort of calming effect on her, even in the height of her own panic.

The roof of the building was her go-to for the increasingly less-needed internal pep talks that Gigi had with herself. Despite how warm it had been throughout the day - and in the loft itself - the night air was much more forgiving and cool, and Gigi found herself immensely calmed down after only a moment outside.

Making her way over to the railing that lined the edge of the rooftop, Gigi stuffed her hands into the pockets of Davvy's jacket and paused, fiddling with the contents blindly. Pulling her hands out, she noted the crumpled bills, the receipt from the sandwiches earlier, and what she had to assume was one of the girls from their night out's number. Glancing around as if there were anyone else on the roof with her, Gigi tucked the bills and receipt back into the pocket and then let go of the slip of paper with the phone number, watching it float away on the soft breeze.

Her last year had been chaotic, to say the least, and while she certainly didn't feel like she was in any sort of stable position to really start examining her own feelings outside of a drive for success and her passion for music, she had to admit that Davvy hadn't fully left her mind even once since they'd met. She tried to justify it every way she could. Davvy had been her first friend - her own age at least - that she'd made since moving. Really, despite her feelings being hurt and her ego being bruised from the events that occurred during the opening night of Rehab's musical, Davvy was also the only person that hadn't really let her down, yet. It wasn't a fair pedestal to put someone on, but she'd done it unconsciously, and that had probably been partly to blame for why she'd taken it so hard when Davvy had gotten tired of waiting for her.

That, and the massive, butterfly-inducing, extra-long-showers-worthy crush that she was still harboring for her. 

She'd been fighting with it since day one - even the distraction of getting back together with Flash had only lasted so long. When she was dating him, it was easy to pretend that she was just spending time with Davvy because they were friends. The truth was, it had been so long since she'd actually been with anyone her own age, that she found the line between friendship and relationship so blurred that it didn't even matter. She _liked_ Davvy. It didn't matter how much or why. She was happy to spend time with her.

At least, it _hadn't_ mattered how much or why, at the time. She'd had a boyfriend - someone she had sort of expected to spend the rest of her life with when she wasn't grappling with the swirling chaos that was every other aspect of her life. Flash was going to be around forever. _Davvy_ was going to be around forever. Maybe that line of thinking had been a little selfish.

Listening to distant sirens, and the sound of someone's car stereo blasting something incoherent and bass-heavy, Gigi closed her eyes and clutched the railing as she gathered her thoughts. She still had a crush on Davvy. Her feelings were still admittedly a little hurt, but the last two days had been nice, all things considered. It felt like it would be easy to fall back into being _them_ again, if that was still what Davvy wanted. Gigi knew she wanted more than that, too, but it would happen organically, like most things did between them. Despite the fact that Davvy had basically been hand-picked for her before they'd met, everything about them had come so naturally. Throughout the planning and the scheming and the social media, when they were alone, it was real. They'd both known that.

Remembering the other woman still in her bed, and feeling the breeze begin to grow colder, Gigi smiled to herself in spite of her confusion and turned to head back inside.

* * *

Morning snuck up on Davvy, but she felt so comfortable curled up in the warm sheets, hearing the hum of the air conditioner throughout the loft, that she couldn’t complain. Taking a look at the sun beaming in through the large window across from the bed, she reached for her phone and peered lazily at the time. 6 AM - a little earlier than she’d been expecting, she felt like she slept for a thousand years - but she felt much better than she had the day before. She hadn't really noticed when she'd made the switch from 'resting her eyes' and actually sleeping, but if she was calculating correctly, she must have been asleep for thirteen hours, on and off. Her body had needed it. She hadn't partied that hard or nursed a hangover that rough in years.

Listening for the sounds of Gigi milling around in the bathroom, Davvy sat up and waited a beat before deciding she probably wasn't in the shower and heading in to take one of her own. The water pressure was weak - Davvy immediately remembered how much she'd always hated it back when she was spending much more time in the apartment. Still, she wasn't sore like she'd been when she'd woken up with her hangover, and if any of that tension did come back, she would probably push her luck on the 'platonic touching' topic and see if she couldn't sucker Gigi into one of her potentially world-famous shoulder massages.

What Gigi's apartment lacked in water pressure, it made up for in incredible quality coffee. Gigi had once told her that before she'd met any of them, Johnny had had a brief stint with sobriety that led to him funneling all of his addiction into caffeine. Drinking so much of it in a day had started a sort of snobbish taste for the finer kinds, and Gigi swore that that was his single greatest contribution to the loft. Planning to pilfer at least one mug immediately, and hopefully a second for the road, Davvy cleaned off the remains of the weekend and wrapped herself in one of Gigi's towels before making her way to the kitchen.

Gigi wasn't there, which was odd, and she didn't answer when Davvy called for her, either. Considering texting her, but ultimately deciding that there was no reason to bother her - she may have been retrieving breakfast, after all - Davvy fixed her coffee and headed back to the bedroom to get dressed. 

It felt weird to be alone in the loft. Even on the rare occasion that she'd been there without Gigi in the past, there was always someone around, whether it was her old band, her parents, manager, or producer. The loft was an absolute ghost town, now. Still, there was something sort of comforting about the peace and quiet. Davvy loved the chaos of the rock world - it was fast and loud and fun, if you kept your head on straight - but this was much more _Gigi_.

Dressing quickly and getting up from the bed to look around the room a little more closely, Davvy sipped from her coffee and began to take in more of the details that she'd never stopped to notice before. She'd been in the bedroom a lot, but she hadn't noticed the photos that lined the desk in the corner until now. Some were of Gigi - some of her as a baby with Cat - but others were tucked behind those, out of sight but clearly not out of mind. A black and white shot of her with Johnny, playing the piano together and both looking completely focused on the keys in front of them. Davvy wondered for a second why it wasn't displayed as prominently as the others, before realizing that it was probably taken during her Assassins era. 

It was a shame - it was a beautiful shot. Picking it up and setting it in the front of the display, she smoothed her fingers over the frame to remove any lingering dust, and smiled as she stepped back. The Assassins had been a lesson learned, for the other woman, but it hadn't been all bad. It had brought them to each other, after all.

Tucked under the desk were a couple of crates of records and CDs, thrown together in a half hazard mess, threatening to overflow onto the floor. Gigi's music taste was eclectic - it was one of Davvy's favorite things about her. Mixed among her Rolling Stones classic vinyl were special-edition 2-disc Lady Gaga albums. Pushing aside a complete discography of Ariana Grande revealed different albums by Nirvana and The Kinks. A (signed) copy of one of The Heathens’ old albums stuck out among the others in its box, so Davvy crouched down and picked it up, turning it over in her hand to read the tracklist on the back. 

She was familiar with their music, but hadn't yet listened to an album all the way through, despite Gigi insisting on it. The songs stood up on their own, she'd promised, but listening to the story from beginning to end was a new experience entirely. Spotting Gigi's laptop tucked under her side of the bed, plugged into the charger, Davvy grabbed that as well, and took both the CD and computer with her into the living room. She'd listen to a little music, Gigi would come back - hopefully with food - and then they'd part ways for the day on much better terms than they'd first came back to her apartment on.

Setting everything down at the kitchen island, Davvy went to refill her coffee before settling in, and spotted the mismatch of items stuck to the fridge - another detail she hadn't ever paid much attention to in the past. A ticket stub from Feast was still stuck there. Davvy wondered who it had belonged to - Gigi, Johnny, or Cat - and which of them would have stuck it there. The tiny piece of paper could have only really been a reminder of embarrassment and hurt, so it felt like a distinctly Cat-like move. Davvy hadn’t even had the chance to meet her but she’d heard enough from Gigi. She swore up and down that the woman wasn't necessarily evil - but she certainly knew exactly how to make use and motivation out of every kind of emotion, good or bad.

Grabbing the stub in a split-moment decision, Davvy crumpled it in her fist and opened the garbage can, dropping it into the pile and covering it with a paper towel from the roll next to the fridge. Sure, some of the lessons from the year that Gigi had had been good ones, but not everything needed to be immortalized. This loft was someone's home, not a gallery of mistakes or just a place for artists to rest between work. 

Refilling her coffee and taking a quick sip, she let the garbage can lid fall shut again, and headed back over to the laptop to boot it up. Just as she was about to open it, her phone buzzed in her pocket - surprisingly loud in the silent apartment and almost startling her into spilling her fresh coffee on herself.

_GG: hey, you're probably still asleep but if you wake up i promise i didn't get kidnapped_

_GG: got us bagels :)_

Smiling at both the texts and the fact that she'd been right about the other woman venturing out for breakfast, Davvy sent a thumbs up back and set her phone aside and opened the laptop.

She only had a quick moment to try to register exactly what she was looking at on the screen before the audio kicked in, the auto-play function on the video coming to life and picking up exactly where Gigi must have left off. Loud moaning and whining filled the apartment despite Davvy slapping at the 'escape' button as quickly and repeatedly as she could. Giving up entirely on managing to actually stop the video, she slammed the laptop shut again and stared wide-eyed into the middle ground, trying to process and calm her accelerated heart rate at the same time. 

That had been... unexpected. She'd been a little surprised at what Gigi seemed open to or curious about in their time together, but it had never been quite on the hardcore porn level. Steadying herself mentally, she reopened the laptop and hit 'mute' before the autoplay could kick in again, chuckling to herself as she noticed how many additional tabs were still open. 

She felt a little bit guilty - but the curiosity and desperate need for blackmail material overtook her sympathy and she quickly clicked through each of the tabs in turn, trying not to laugh out loud at the content that each one produced.

She'd have to bug the other woman about it at least a little bit. After all, if the man that she'd crawled into bed with the other night was any indication, she should have been being taken care of better than her browser history would lead anyone to believe she was. She considered closing the tabs and just going about her business, listening to the CD she'd picked out, but then realized that she may not have saved any of them - it would be a shame after she'd clearly so painstakingly curated her choices. There was definitely a bit of a pattern, and Davvy was tempted to check her history to see how far back said pattern would go, but decided it was an invasion of privacy, and popped the CD into the drive.

She only made it through the first two songs - classics that she was familiar with - before the pornography she'd stumbled upon replaying in her head grew too loud to ignore and she had to shut the music off altogether. Ejecting the CD and minimizing the background browser window - still paused on a wide-angle shot of a woman sprawled out on a bed of leather sheets - Davvy closed the laptop altogether and picked both it and the CD case up to return them to their spots in Gigi's room.

She had barely made it through the bedroom door and set down the CD when the front door to the loft opened, and Davvy glanced at the laptop still tucked under her arm before making her decision.

"Hey!" Gigi called, followed by the sounds of her shuffling through the kitchen. "The lineup was insane. Ooh, good. You found the coffee."

"I did," Davvy replied, turning around in the doorway and holding up the laptop in gesture. "I found your porn, too. Sorry."

"You what?" Gigi snorted, not looking up from the cup of coffee she was pouring for herself for a moment. Davvy waited a beat, then caught her eye as she turned around before her gaze dropped to the computer. "Um -"

"It was an accident. I was trying to listen to music," Davvy insisted, fighting to keep the laugh out of her voice.

"Gimme the laptop."

There was something underneath of her tone that was shaking the sternness in it. It sounded like nervousness, but Davvy recognized it for what it was almost instantly: giddiness.

"No, no, I didn't say I was done watching it."

"Davvy, I'm serious -" Gigi started towards her, one hand out to for the computer.

"Who said I wasn't?" she asked in response, laughing outright when the taller woman got within range and swiped for it.

"That's not funny."

"It's a little funny."

Gigi swiped for the laptop again, and this time, Davvy barely managed to dance out of her reach. Clutching it close to her chest protectively, she faked left and darted right, screaming playfully when the other woman growled and chased after her, effectively ending the near-silence of the morning, replacing it with the sound of the two of them running after each other, hysterical with laughter.


	3. Chapter 3

“Just tell me where the rest is and I’ll make fun of you silently instead,” Davvy insisted, and Gigi could feel her cheeks growing hotter by the second. She desperately tried to whine, to keep her face straight if not upset, but it was impossible. The absurdity mixed with the uncomfortable nervousness of the situation was making her want to laugh, forcing her to use almost all of her willpower to keep the grin off of her face.

“No, enough!” She stepped closer to the bed that she'd cornered Davvy onto. Davvy just laughed, leaning back and clutching the laptop closer.

“Careful, you’re gonna break it, and then you’re gonna have to go the old-fashioned route and pick up a skin mag at the gas station.”

“Davvy, I’m serious, give it.” She tried to go the stern path once more instead, standing upright and holding a hand out as if the other woman was going to simply hand over the computer.

Smirking defiantly in reaction to what Gigi had hoped would have been an authoritative tone, Davvy simply made herself comfortable again and chuckled at the screen. “God, Geej, I don’t know anyone who’s into this stuff. Do you know how dangerous hot wax is?”

Growing concerned for her own mental health and reputation as Davvy reopened the laptop, Gigi flung herself onto the bed, halfway across her, and grabbed for the computer. Messily shoving it shut, she tried to catch her breath. 

“I didn’t know what I was looking for!” She insisted.

“Are you sure?” Davvy teased, pulling the closed laptop away with ease and using one hand to push her back down against the bed as she tried to sit up. “How do I know you’re not lying so I’ll keep mocking you for it? That’s a kink, too, but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you about all that. You’re so well-researched.” 

Giving up on sitting upright, the blushing girl huffed in defeat and crossed her arms over her chest. Glaring at the ceiling, she spoke. “Shut up. At least I actually went looking for options before shoving myself at the first girl who walked by.”

Davvy’s eyebrows shot up, but she seemed more impressed by the almost-drag than she was upset by it. Chuckling, she set the computer aside and then reached over and prodded at her arm. 

“You sound jealous. That guitar player isn’t getting your rocks off, Rock?”

Swinging the nearest decorative pillow without even stopping to think about the consequences, Gigi growled defiantly and was able to get two good hits in before the other woman managed to wrestle the pillow away from her and toss it aside. 

“I didn’t consent to this abuse,” she growled, but her tone sounded wickedly playful - it brought the grin back to Gigi’s face before she could stop it. “You’re already forgetting the first rule of BDSM, you must have really oversaturated yourself with information.”

She yanked the Gigi’s legs back across her lap by the calves while she spoke, and she barely managed to begin defending herself again before she was cut off.

“Will you cut it out with the p-ffft, ha! Shit! No, no, no, no, n-” Her words were drowned out by a fit of laughter and she could feel her cheeks growing hot once more from a combination of embarrassment at how she sounded and her own breathlessness. Davvy’s hands had, by some work of God - or more likely the devil - immediately zoned in on the deathly ticklish spots above both of her knees, draining what she could only properly describe as cackling out of her without warning.

“Stop, stop, I’m going to pee, I SWEAR I’M GOING TO PEE!”

“Are you begging?”

“YES, yes, I’m begging, THIS IS ME BEGGING!”

Mercifully, she stopped, reaching over and tucking back a piece of Gigi’s hair and chuckling. 

“Begging? Maybe you are kinky. I underestimated you,” Davvy mocked, but she was far too tired to argue now. 

Taking slow, deep breaths, she groaned quietly and rubbed her face. Still, the smile was stuck there, and she no longer had the strength to get rid of it. 

“That’s the last time you do that,” she breathed, glancing up as Davvy’s eyes travelled over her for a moment. The other woman adjusted her shirt for her, smoothing it out. “I hate that.”

“You use that word a lot,” Davvy observed, but without giving her time to ponder it, she added, “You don’t hate it. You’re smiling.”

“I hate my smile,” Gigi reminded her. “I hate my laugh,” she added, becoming increasingly aware of how close together they were. Her breath hitched when Davvy’s head dipped down, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she realized she was leaning in to her ear, not her mouth.

“I love your laugh,” she mumbled, like it was a secret; like there was anyone else in the apartment but them. 

“It’s ugl -” Gigi started to protest, shutting up as their lips connected. 

Taking her kissing back as a good sign, Davvy slowly shifted to lay back down beside her completely, breaking away between each kiss, just enough to let her breathe before taking the very same breath away with the next kiss, again, and again.

It had been too long. 

“What else do you hate?” Davvy asked, pulling back to stare down at her.

“Huh?” Gigi’s eyes fluttered back open, confusion pulling her features into a comically perturbed look.

“What else do you hate?” The other woman repeated, giving her a moment to think about it.

“My cheeks,” she replied after a moment. “You know that.”

Not responding verbally, the other woman brushed a thumb slowly over her cheek, then leaned closer and kissed the spot softly, mirroring the gesture on the opposite cheek.

Chuckling softly, Gigi tried to rearrange her features into a stern look of determination as Davvy pulled back to look at her again.

"What else?"

Gigi considered, then cleared her throat, raising her gaze just above the other woman's eyes to avoid having her cheeks turn any more red.

"Hm, my stomach. Sometimes."

"Oh yeah?" She could hear the knowing smugness in Davvy's voice, and squirmed nervously beside her.

" _ Sometimes _ ," she repeated. 

"Hm."

Sliding the tips of her fingers under the hem of her shirt, Davvy's gaze flicked back up to Gigi, who had taken to holding her breath in anticipation. Slowly inching the material up past her navel, she leaned over and pressed her lips to the underside of her ribs, then repeated the action slowly, working down to the center of her waistline. It may have been a while since they'd last been together like this, but it felt like they were picking up exactly where they'd left off. Despite the earlier playful roughhousing, it was always awe-inspiring just how gentle the other woman was with her.

Closing her eyes, Gigi slid one hand into her hair and let her head fall back against the duvet, letting out a sigh so soft and quiet that she was sure the other woman didn't hear it - until she stopped kissing and lifted her head.

"Geej?" 

"Mhm?" She replied, rocking her hips upward.

"Where else?"

She laughed softly in disbelief under her breath, before lifting her hips further up from the bed and twisting impatiently.

  
"I  _ hate  _ the underwear I'm wearing.  _ Help _ ?"

* * *

Waking up in Gigi's apartment for the third time in a row, Davvy reached for her phone on the nightstand, hitting the screen in frustration to try to turn off the alarm. 

"That's my phone." Gigi's voice came from behind her, and Davvy blindly rolled over to face her instead as the alarm ended.

"Morning," she sighed, snuggling deeper beneath the covers before suddenly feeling Gigi's breath on the side of her neck.

"Morning," she returned. "Come shower with me."

Davvy's eyes snapped open.

That was a particularly tempting offer, and while the night before had been a nice walk down memory lane, Davvy couldn't help but feel the sobriety of a good rest setting in over her. She thought about the guitarist from Red Wedding, and the way that even though Gigi had been upset with her, it had been her that initiated the activities from yesterday. She may have embarrassed her when she'd gotten tired of being used and ghosted her, but she still deserved some sort of commitment. Falling back into the habit of crawling into bed with Gigi every night without any real promises from her wasn't anywhere on Davvy's agenda.

She was obviously quiet for a moment too long, because Gigi jostled her arm, her voice a little more clear when she spoke next:

"Did you fall back asleep?"

"No," Davvy sighed, rolling onto her back and staring up at the other woman. Gigi was bright-eyed, clearly having been up for a little bit longer than she had herself, with a hopeful, playful look in her eye. It struck Davvy just how much of the real Gigi she got to see. The authentic version of the other woman that was less confident sex-appeal and more thoughtful, and genuine, and above all else, unbearably lovable.

"What's wrong?" Gigi's brow knitted in the middle, concern pulling all of her features, relaxing when Davvy reached up and held the side of her face in one hand. Taking the gesture as an invitation, she leaned in close and kissed her softly, filling her senses with the smell of mint, and coffee, and something vaguely cucumber-y - perhaps the laundry detergent from her pillowcase.

"No," Davvy pulled back after a second, refusing to let herself be sucked back in. "I - stop, for a second."

If Gigi had looked concerned before, she looked horrified, now. Realizing the implication of pulling away from her - physically and emotionally - the morning after they'd finally slept together again, Davvy's eyes widened and she quickly backpedaled to fix her mistake.

"Wait," she grabbed her hand as she moved to get up from the bed, letting her mouth and heart run miles ahead of her brain. "I don't mean that, I mean - if we're going to do all of this again, let’s do it right."

The other woman visibly had already started to put up her walls again, her face stiff and her posture suddenly upright. Davvy had only seen the look a couple of times - once was the second time they'd slept together. The experiment had already been completed, but Gigi had still frantically come back to her, claiming that her boyfriend knew and that it was fine - Davvy couldn't help but laugh and comment on it when Gigi had come entirely undone under her fingers in record time. The second time was the night that she'd taken her to Feast and, after spending the entire time chasing after her ex and his new girlfriend, had walked in on Davvy with a new girl.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

Davvy reached for her, pressing one hand to her knee, and fixed her with an almost resigned look. Sure, she'd been impatient, she hadn't loved being treated like an accessory, or experiment - but at the end of the day, she was whipped.

"I... I know we said we would just try friends. But I really don't think I can do 'friends'. Especially not this kind of friends," she gestured around them, at the mussed up bedsheets, and their mutual state of undress. 

Gigi was still visibly avoiding reacting, but the hopeful sparkle in her eye was still there, and it only spurred Davvy on, pushing past her nervousness at the possible rejection.

"I want to take you out. On an actual date."

She expected Gigi to stiffen even more; to panic at the request for such sudden commitment, just like almost every other girl who had come into her life in a similar, experimental fashion - but this was Gigi.  _ Commitment  _ was at the top of her Christmas wish list every year. She seemed to soften as she exhaled, dropping Davvy's gaze to look at her hands in her lap instead. She folded them tightly, her voice shaking with fear of her own vulnerability when she finally replied,

" _ I thought that you were going to say you were leaving _ ."

"Why would I leave?" Davvy asked, trying to keep the laugh out of her voice. The last thing she needed was to make the other woman feel stupid.

"I just... thought..." Gigi gestured vaguely as she trailed off, and Davvy grabbed her hand.

"Do you not want to see where this goes?"

"I mean, I do," she began, shaking her head a little but leaving her hand put. "I just don't... what if..." 

She started and didn't finish a few sentences, but Davvy was quiet, letting her take her time.

"Gigi, what's the issue?"

"What if it’s like last time?"

Davvy considered this, then shrugged.

"The only reason everything fell apart before was because we weren't clear with each other. Would that make you feel better?" She asked. "Clarity?"

Gigi paused, then nodded.

"I'm sorry," she added. "I know that can... ruin things. I just like knowing what we're doing. Is that okay?"

Davvy chuckled, catching her eye and then pulling her closer across the bed again. The other woman hesitated, then slowly slid down to lay beside her, relaxing into her side when she wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"I think you get this idea in your head that you're asking for a lot, when you really aren't."

Gigi moved as if to tilt her head back to look at her, but gave up after a moment.

"You don't think I'm high-maintenance?"

Snorting before she could stop herself, Davvy shook her head.

"Not even a little bit. Did someone tell you that you were?" She asked.

Gigi shook her head back.

"No. It just feels like it sometimes."

"I'll let you know if you're being high-maintenance," Davvy told her, after considering for a moment. "But that also means you still have to ask when you want something. And speak up. You just  _ also  _ have to be ready to hear 'no'. Is that fair?"

Gigi nodded again, sinking further into both the other woman and the bed.

"Okay. Plus, we can compromise. Right? Like adults."

Davvy jostled her lightly, wringing a small exasperated laugh from her. It was quiet, but the sound of it brought an onslaught of fluttering butterflies into her stomach and chest, and she steeled her resolve.

"So, compromise: I'll come and blow your mind in the shower, if you let me take you out. On a real date."

The other woman froze, before sitting up and turning to her more seriously.

"A real date?"

Davvy nodded.

"I'm just asking for a chance," she replied. "And, barring any real disasters, if it isn't for us, it isn't for us. We'll try something else. Does that sound fair?"

Gigi nodded without hesitating this time. The nervousness was still clear on her face, but it was paired with the little streak of brave resolve that Davvy had seen in her more than once.

"Okay." She climbed up from the bed, holding both hands out to help the other woman up, repeating, "Okay. When?"

"Tonight," Davvy told her, grabbing her hands and swinging herself up from the bed. She felt Gigi's hands tighten around hers, but didn't point it out. 

"And what're we doing for said date?"

Turning Gigi's shoulders to make her face the en-suite bathroom, Davvy marched her towards it, letting go after a moment to start to peel her remaining layers of clothing off. 

"Something casual. Maybe a hot air balloon ride over Manhattan and then a tasting course at Eleven Madison?" 

Stopping in her tracks, Gigi whirled around to fix the other woman with a glare, though she looked so subdued from her sleepiness and their heavy conversation that the effect was completely lost. Laughing, Davvy leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the bridge of her nose.

"How about drinks? Just drinks. Maybe french fries, if we get hungry. I know a great little bar not that far from here, and I doubt you've been. It'll be fun."

"A gay bar?" Gigi eyed her wearily, making her laugh again.

"I'm offended," Davvy replied, putting a hand to her heart, before straightening her features. "But yes, obviously a gay bar. It'll be fun. I'm not going to cover you and syrup and throw you to the drag queens, Geej - but it won't hurt you to get some culture."

She snorted, whirling around again once she realized she was only being made fun of, and headed into the bathroom.

Chasing after her, she swung the bathroom door shut behind them and followed her into the shower.

* * *

Having been given a couple of hours to herself while Davvy had gone home to get a fresh change of clothes, Gigi obsessively cleaned every nook and cranny of the loft, down to sitting at the keyboard with a box of q-tips, meticulously pressing down each key to clean each side of it.

She was too nervous to eat, but managed to get herself to throw together some amped-up dollar ramen, forcing it down despite her nerves trying to push it back up in the same moment. If they were getting drinks, she'd have her guard up - and the combination of stress plus alcohol wouldn't be easy to handle on an empty stomach. It had to be a perfect evening, no matter how casual it was. It was the start of an entirely different chapter to what she and Davvy really were, and even though the other woman had promised that they'd still be  _ them  _ if it didn't work, she knew deep down that it wouldn't be the same.

Davvy had left the loft shortly after noon, citing that showering and climbing back into dirty clothes felt 'wrong' - plus, they'd torn through the leftover bagels from the day before and she needed real food before taking her out that night.

When there was absolutely nothing left to clean - and the afternoon sun was dipping into early evening haziness - Gigi moved onto agonizing over what she was going to wear out. Her style wasn't exactly versatile, but it did work for her lifestyle. Davvy knew how she looked; she knew how she dressed and what her wardrobe looked like - there was no reason to be worried. She wouldn't be dragging her somewhere where she'd need to dress any preppier than she was used to.

She'd never been nervous like this - not with dates in general, or with Davvy. Even when they'd first met, something about the other woman was still so grounding even in the height of her panicking. 

She had to assume that Davvy hadn't texted her all day after leaving just to give her some space to decompress, but she desperately wanted to talk to her. She settled instead for distracting herself by scrolling through her social media and laying on her bed, deciding to shelve the issue of choosing an outfit until later on.

She'd been tagged in a photo with Manny from one of their practices, leaning in close to him and clutching her mic stand as she sang. The photo crackled with energy - she had to admit it looked flattering, saving it to her phone for later on - but the chemistry was all stage. Despite assumptions from everyone - her parents, the rest of the band, and even Davvy until she'd been corrected - the two of them simply didn't 'click' that way. 

She liked Manny. He was talented, and he worked hard despite his cocky attitude being a little off-putting to some people, herself included occasionally. But after everything that had happened with The Assassins, the idea of dating a band member - or letting anyone in the band date each other - made her feel stressed and residually angry.

The idea of still getting to have a relationship without having to hurt the band, or damage the music, made her feel suddenly very warm and content, like all of her date-night nerves had slipped away to make room for pure unfiltered affection. She thought about Davvy; about the way she'd flung an arm across her waist the night before and blindly traced the made-up constellation between the small spray of freckles and beauty spots that she'd memorized on Gigi's ribs; the way she'd pulled her closer in the night, tucking her chin over her head in her sleep and then sighing happily without waking up. The calmness vanished to make room for a different kind of nervousness: this one was colorful, and it made her grin despite being completely alone in the silent apartment. It spilled over into laughter, and she couldn't stop herself despite knowing how crazy she'd have looked if anyone else were around to see her.

Exiting out of the app and pulling up her texts instead, Gigi quickly typed a message to her dad, letting him know that she had plans that evening in case she was home late. His response was instant and completely incoherent, and she knew that he'd probably gotten into his secret stash hidden in the back of the piano at the studio. Rolling her eyes, she moved to shut her phone off, when Davvy finally texted her.

_ Davvy: hey, how does 7 sound? _

Glancing at the time in the top corner of her screen, Gigi balked, climbing up from the bed quickly to start pulling open the drawers of her dresser. It was already 5:30, and she was going to need at least a good hour to wash her face and do her makeup - assuming she made no mistakes.

_ '7 sounds good' _ , she typed back.

Davvy replied almost instantly.

_ Davvy: alright, i'll come by around then. we can walk. _

Feeling the butterflies return with a vengeance, Gigi locked her phone and tossed it onto the bed before tearing through the piles of folded clothing in the drawers.

She'd barely finished getting ready by the time that Davvy texted her to let her know she was waiting downstairs. Gigi appreciated that the other woman wouldn't see the evidence of her earlier worry in the form of a bleach-scented, scarily clean loft, but not knowing what she was wearing and being able to quickly change in the event of a mishap was equally worrying.

All but slapping herself to get it together, Gigi headed downstairs and outside to meet her.

The first look at her made her feel like she was meeting her again for the first time. Cleaned up, put together in fresh clothes and makeup, and looking much more well-rested, Davvy lit up at the sight of her and pulled her in to kiss her before she could start internally questioning what the 'first date' etiquette was when they'd just spent the night together.

"You look cute," she greeted, stepping back and taking in Gigi's appearance. 

She glanced down at herself, then shrugged despite feeling the blush heat her cheeks.

"Oh, thanks. I need to do laundry."

It was a lie, but the truth was that she'd tried on approximately thirty outfits within the span of twenty minutes, and that was a considerably more embarrassing reality.

Taking her hand, Davvy fell into step beside her and headed down the street. If she was even half as nervous as Gigi was, she didn't show it. Her entire attitude exuded comfortable coolness, as if this was routine for them and they'd been dating for years.

"So? You ready to be dated?" She asked after a moment, startling the other woman.

Chuckling at her intentionally awkward word choice, Gigi adjusted her grip on her hand and ignored the feeling of her own clamminess.

"Can't very well turn back now, can I?"

Davvy laughed, glancing over at her thoughtfully for a moment. Without a word, Gigi picked up on the message:  _ We can go back, if you aren't ready. _ She held her gaze for a moment, before smiling reassuringly.

"How come you've never taken me to this place before?" She asked.

Davvy chuckled. 

" _ Well _ , I haven't been around. Besides, when I was hanging out in your neighborhood it was usually with you. I was happy to go where you wanted to take me."

Her words were very simple, but they set off fireworks in Gigi's head. Without giving herself time to think, she raised their linked hands to her face, pressing her lips to the back of the other woman's hand. She regretted it immediately, wincing and closing her eyes as she let their hands drop back to their sides between them, but it made Davvy stop walking altogether, turning to face her.

"Thank you, by the way."

"What for?"

Davvy shrugged. "Agreeing to come out with me. I'm glad we're gonna try this."

The two of them stared at each other for another moment before Davvy dropped her gaze and cleared her throat.  _ There  _ was the reassuring nervousness that Gigi had been hoping for. A small reminder that it was new to both of them, but the goal was the same.

Starting to walk again, and turning them down another side street, Davvy pulled Gigi into a small recessed doorway, grabbing what looked like a piece of pure sheet metal and sliding it open. If Gigi had passed the place on her own, she'd have barely noticed it, but looking now, she could see the small dark window that looked warmed from the inside. Davvy pulled her inside and she realized they were in a small standing-room sized bar area.

"Davida, hey," A woman standing behind the bar waved to her with a dishrag in hand.

Raising two fingers in salute back, Davvy led Gigi through the small front area towards the very end of the bar. The further inside they walked, the larger that Gigi realized the space was. While the entrance and bar were cramped, the back had a larger space altogether - standing space sprawled out in front of a tiny stage that was pressed to the back wall, glittering streamers hanging from the ceiling around the backdrop, clearly leftover from whoever had performed last. Mismatched antique tables littered the unused dance floor with a few patrons scattered about with drinks and food.

"I've never even heard of this place," she admitted out loud as Davvy tugged out one of the bar stools for her and then climbed into her own.

"They have live music sometimes. Drag shows. Events. It looks a lot bigger when it’s full," Davvy explained, waving down the bartender that had greeted her when they'd come in. "Two glasses of house red...?"

She trailed off as she turned to Gigi for assurance.

"Works for me," she agreed, settling into her spot and turning around to take in her surroundings. Old photos, both black and white and color lined the walls around the standing area - some taken at protests, some inside the bar itself. Miniature flags and protest banners hung from the ceiling, stretching all the way from the doorway to the farthest back wall, highlighting the history of the area. Beside her, Davvy tapped away at her phone before locking it and tucking it into her bag. Gigi wondered if she'd felt as out of place the first time that she'd been here. It was like a wave of impostor syndrome at her hit at her once, but then Davvy turned to her, smiling calmly and reaching over under the bar to place a hand on her knee. It was if everything clicked comfortably into place, and she covered the other woman's hand with her own, smiling back.

"Jack, this is Gigi."

The bartender returned with their wine, then stuck one hand out to shake.

"I know," Jack replied, shaking Gigi's hand quickly and shooting her a grin. She noted the tiny golden jewel affixed to her canine, and the flash of metal from her tongue piercing. For a moment, Gigi wondered if Davvy had been talking about her, but Jack quickly clarified, "I saw you and the Assassins at  _ The Bitter End _ a couple months ago. You guys doing another show, soon?"

Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, Gigi dropped her gaze and then felt a swell of appreciation when Davvy answered for her.

"They broke up," she replied, sipping her own wine before continuing, "You should hear her new outfit, though. They're incredible."

Blushing hotly, Gigi sipped from her wine to avoid giggling nervously.

"Aw, shit. I'm sorry to hear that," Jack replied, looking genuinely sympathetic. 

"You know how it is with these rock bands," Davvy replied, causing the bartender to laugh.

"Yeah, you'd know better than me." 

Waving her away playfully, Davvy turned to Gigi again and eyed her for a moment.

"What?" Gigi sunk into herself a little, before glancing back over her shoulder as if the other woman was looking at anyone, or thing else.

"Do you wanna do a shot?"

Laughing in surprise, Gigi raised both eyebrows and tilted her head to the side.

"Jeez, is this going that badly already?"

"No," Davvy laughed back, shaking her head. "Just one - to loosen up. Both of us."

She considered for a moment, then nodded.

"Yeah. What're we doing?"

Davvy waved Jack back over one more time, making a shot-taking gesture with one hand.

"Dealer's choice," she informed her, squeezing Gigi's hand before resting both hands on the bar and taking another sip from her wine.

* * *

The night had gone considerably more off the rails than Davvy had planned, but as she and Gigi stumbled out into the street in the dark, gripping each others arms and trying to keep one another upright, she decided that it was still a perfect first date.

Giggling hysterically, Gigi tugged Davvy's jacket that she had commandeered tighter around herself and got dangerously close to stepping off the curb into the street before righting herself and grabbing Davvy's hand properly.

'Just one, to loosen up' had turned into several, Gigi's excitable competitiveness turning her into a vodka-monster within only an hour or two. The cold night air was a welcome feeling after the bar had grown busier, and more warm with the bodies packed from wall to wall, and they'd left just in time to avoid a bachelorette party that was threatening to start karaoke on the stage in the back.

"So?" Davvy asked, letting go of Gigi's hand to link their arms, instead. "Good first date?"

Gigi giggled even more in response, before fixing her what Davvy assumed was her attempt at a sober, serious look.

"It was."

They rounded the corner to her street, and she seemed to speed up her pace, a little more hurried now that 'home' was within her sights.

"Shots were a good idea. Maybe next time, we'll get um... food. And less alcohol," Gigi suggested. The idea of a second date settled pleasantly into Davvy's mind and forced a half-drunk smile onto her face.

"I think that's the tradition, yes."

Stopping at the back door to her building, the private entrance to the elevator, Gigi whirled around clumsily and grabbed both of Davvy's hands to look at her. 

They crashed together less-than-gracefully, kissing breathlessly. Breaking away for a moment, Gigi sighed blissfully, in perfect harmony with the cool wind swirling around them. Davvy's neck itched uncomfortably - sticky from the residue of the rated-pg13 body shot that Gigi had insisted on taking.

"Spend the night," Gigi breathed, more of a demand than a suggestion or invitation.

Davvy felt magnetized to her, the wine settling into her lower stomach and making her legs feel weak; a physical embodiment of her mental state.

"I... can't." She pulled back, trying not to be too sucked in by the pout on the other woman's face. "Y'know, we've had a lot to drink, and you deserve a night of having your own bed back for once."

Whether from the cold, or the alcohol and sudden surge of emotion, Gigi's eyes watered, and she quickly blinked it away.

"Right."

"I'll still call you in the morning," Davvy told her. She squeezed both of her hands, dipping her head to catch her gaze. "Okay?"

Seeming reassured, Gigi softened and nodded, leaning in to kiss her once more, much more gently.

"Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Gigi."

Watching her fumble for her keys before turning to swing the heavy steel door behind herself open, Davvy made sure that she'd gotten inside safely - with the door shut behind her - and then turned to head back out to the main street to track down a cab for hire.


	4. Chapter 4

Davvy did in fact call Gigi back in the morning, but the other woman was audibly hungover and their conversation was cut short so that they could both get some extra rest. She'd originally thought about offering to bring her coffee, but didn't want to push it. She had never been particularly clingy, but being around Gigi felt perfectly natural - she never really tired of her company. The pair didn't see each other until a full two days later, when Davvy was in her neighborhood and phoned her from down the block.

“I thought we could go for a walk, or get a drink. Or coffee. Or something.”

“Um… sure.” Gigi sounded distracted, shuffling sounds filling the background of the call. “I’m just - up to my eyes in sheet music now. I thought I’d organize some of my dad’s shit but he’s terrible at filing. I could use a break.”

“Perfect,” Davvy replied. “I can meet you downstairs if you’re ready now? I’m not far.”

“Were you just lurking around outside waiting for me to be available?” Davvy didn’t have time to decide if Gigi’s words were insulting or not - or if she was insulted - before she continued with, “I’ll be downstairs right away.”

It was a little odd, not being invited up, but she didn’t push it. Hanging up and picking up the pace, Davvy closed the space between the corner of the street and the entrance to Gigi’s apartment building, jamming her hands into her pockets to keep warm despite the cool air.

She wasn’t waiting too long before the other woman arrived, bundled up in a calf-length black coat that would have made anyone else look like an elderly Russian woman in their sixties, though she somehow pulled off. Held in one hand were two water bottles, her phone clutched tightly in the other. 

“I thought you might want one.” She held out the bottles, smiling stiffly when Davvy pulled one carefully from her grip and unscrewed the cap.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while - I know it’s only been a few days, but,” Davvy paused to take a sip from the bottle, then continued, “But we were seeing each other all the time, for a minute. Feels like the pendulum swung the other way.”

“Mm,” Gigi nodded once, but said nothing else on the topic, jutting her chin towards the corner that Davvy had just come from. “Shall we?” 

The two of them fell into step together, quiet save for the sounds of their shoes clicking on the pavement, before Davvy finally spoke again.

"So... what did you get up to for the last couple of days?"

Gigi exhaled heavily, looking off upwards as if trying to wrack her brain. 

"Trying to stay busy, I guess. Doing a little bit of writing - or trying to. You know that's never really been my strong suit."

"I don't know if I'd say that," the other woman replied easily. "I like everything you've written."

Gigi turned to her with a small smile, then reached out and laced their hands together. Squeezing hers reassuringly, Davvy smiled back, then continued.

"What's been giving you trouble?"

"I've been distracted," Gigi answered quickly; honestly.

"Oh." Davvy's pace slowed down, but she didn't notice until Gigi was having to look back to see her properly. Hurrying to catch up, she cleared her throat, then continued. "Well, that's... understandable, given everything that's happened over the last few months. When was the last time that you wrote something?"

"Does 'Bang Bang' count?"

"I wouldn't think so," Davvy said lightly, trying not to insult her. "Besides, you didn't really write that - not alone, at least. I mean, when was the last time you really put your own voice into something? Something real?"

Gigi looked off into the distance ahead of them for a moment, considering her answer.

"I can't remember. Not for a really long time."

"Well," Davvy replied, squeezing her hand. "Why don't you think about it? The last thing that you had to sit down to write? There's nothing wrong with recycling themes. Sometimes visiting old feelings can bring up new thoughts - or just make you see things from a different perspective; pick up on details that you missed the first time around."

Gigi turned to her thoughtfully, and Davvy realized the heavy implication of her words. Worried, for a moment, that she'd said too much, she internally panicked, only relaxing when Gigi stopped walking and closed the distance between them to kiss her.

For one moment, everything felt very warm - and  _ good _ \- and then the other woman pulled back and cleared her throat softly.

“I think that today is the last day I’m going to be able to do this, for a while.” She gestured between them. “It’s not - I just won’t have a lot of free time for the next little bit… I really need to focus on the band, stuff is just… not working out as smoothly as it should right now. We’re really losing direction and we had a good momentum going - I can’t risk losing it. I can’t risk  _ being  _ the reason we lose it.” 

Trying to keep her disappointment off of her face, Davvy dropped her gaze and nodded slowly, swallowing hard before catching her eye again.

“No, that - makes total sense. We can link up later.”

“You’re sure it’s okay?”

“Totally.”

“I just didn’t want to suddenly get busy and have you think I was ignoring you on purpose,” she insisted, beginning a nervous ramble that made Davvy smile despite feeling let down. It was so very  _ Gigi  _ that it made everything feel normal and entirely unconcerning, even if only for a few moments. “Or that I was like, using the band as an excuse, or blowing you off after our date, or -”

“Geej.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s fine. Promise.”

“Okay,” she breathed. “Okay. I’m sorry. We can continue our walk. Might be the last one for a little while, anyway.”

That thought made Davvy’s heart sink a little more, but she smiled it off, readjusting her grip on Gigi’s hand as they turned to continue down the street.

* * *

Davvy was surprised by how often she found herself missing Gigi over the next day and a half. It wasn’t a constant, needy feeling, but tiny details throughout her daily routine would suddenly remind her of something about the other woman, and she’d find herself smiling to herself like a teenager with their first crush. She’d be embarrassed if she weren’t so content.

Leaving Gigi alone to focus on work, Davvy avoided her phone for the most part - even to order food - and ventured out the next evening to get some real, greasy, home-cooked bar food. The contents of her refrigerator were beginning to look a little bleak, and getting some fresh air instead of cooping up in her place trying to take her own advice and write some music again was a welcome change. 

She took a Lyft to  _ Jack's _ , groaning quietly to herself as she climbed out and her car drove away. She spotted a few roadies by a black unmarked van unloading some musical equipment out front, hoping that whoever was practicing there would be open to having a single audience member who just needed some dinner. Pressing her luck, she headed for the door anyway and held it open for them, then poked her head in behind them to see if she couldn't spot Jack herself. Jack's prices for venue rental were steep, given how popular the location was - and one of the amenities afforded in the price were  _ completely  _ closed practices; total privacy. The bartender mercifully waved her in, though, despite there being no one else inside, and she sighed in relief.

"Oh, thank god," she breathed, sidling up to the bar and slipping her jacket from her shoulders. "I seriously need a burger, you're saving my life by letting me in here."

“Obviously, you get special treatment,” Jack replied easily, setting down the rag she was holding and then leaning back towards the open window to the kitchen behind her. “Cheeseburger, extra pickles.  _ What, are you sleeping back there? Get off your ass! _ ”

“I’m not sure what I did to get the rockstar treatment,” Davvy told her, leaning against the bar, “But I’m glad I’m finally getting the VIP recognition that I deserve.”

“What do you mean?” Jack turned her attention back to her, cocking her head to the side as she grabbed for her rag again and began to wipe down the bartop.

“I’m assuming this is a closed practice,” she gestured towards the back of the bar where the small stage was. Roadies milled around, hooking up drums and adjusting the microphone stand. “Unless this place is suddenly way less popular than I remember.”

Jack frowned in confusion. “Yeah, but -”

“Davvy?”

Blinking in surprise, convinced she’d  _ imagined  _ Gigi’s voice behind her, Davvy took a moment to recenter herself and then turned around, eyebrows raising.

“... Gigi?”

“What… are you doing here?” The other woman didn’t look particularly pleased to see her, and the heavy, uncomfortable tension between them made Davvy feel short of breath almost instantly.

“Uh -” Every word in her vocabulary left her mind for a moment, and all she could do was gape at the other woman, feeling rooted to the spot in embarrassment.

“I’m gonna go let them know to make that burger to go,” Jack suggested, quickly escaping the situation by heading to the end of the bar and vanishing into the kitchen through the swinging door.

“Thanks,” Davvy muttered, her eyes not leaving Gigi. “Look, I -”

“This is the second time this has happened in like, a week,” Gigi cut her off, her voice turning shrill. “I… let it go the first time, but seriously?  _ This? _ ” She gestured around them, “is a little suspect.”

“Gigi, that isn’t -”

“Y’know what, I don’t care.” She shook her head. “I told you that I just needed a bit of time to focus on my band. I just needed a  _ little  _ bit of time to myself.”

“Okay, you know what?” Davvy slid up from her seat, grabbing her jacket a little more aggressively than the conversation called for. “I just came to eat.  _ I’m  _ the one who showed you this bar, anyway. Whatever weirdo stalker moment you’re accusing me of is ridiculous - if you want me to leave you alone that badly, I will.”

Jack returned from the kitchen, smiling brightly as if hoping to relieve the tension with her entrance.

“Burger up,” she chirped, holding the bag out.

“Yeah. Thanks.” She snatched the takeaway bag and shook her head at Gigi one more time. “I promise not to take up any more of your time.”

“Davvy,” Gigi’s face fell a little, all of her features softening at once at the realization that this had very quickly turned into an actual fight. “That isn’t what I meant, I just -”

“Later,” she dismissed, nodding to Jack and slapping a twenty down onto the bartop. She turned to head out the door before Gigi could say another word - she’d have to order a car from outside, and she was preemptively annoyed at the thought of her food getting cold while she waited.

There was a moment when she wondered as she pushed the door open if Gigi was going to follow after her, but as she stood on the curb, fumbling with her phone irritably, she felt a sinking sadness growing in her chest that she’d put there with her own hopefulness. As she successfully ordered a ride, she heard the muffled sounds of music coming from inside the bar behind her, and her reactionary anger was replaced with regret.

* * *

Davvy half-expected Gigi to text her once her practice ended, but she didn't hear from her for the rest of the evening. Trying her hardest to force the thought from her mind, she settled in on her couch with her cheeseburger - still mercifully hot when she'd arrived back at her apartment - and her phone. She usually liked a more efficient setup during her brainstorming and writing sessions, but this was for therapy more than production value, so a simple voice memo and bullet points in her Notes app was sufficient enough for the time being. 

The lyrics that came to her naturally were painfully Gigi-centric, but she didn't beat herself up over it. She'd always found that she could be more honest in her songwriting than out loud, and even the melodies themselves were especially raw, even if the wordless music wasn't a language that anyone else would properly understand the deeper meaning of. 

She wrote and wrote until she fell asleep, with tons of disjointed pieces of lyrics, none of which went together into a single coherent song. It was nearly two in the morning when she flopped over on the couch to rest her eyes - and didn’t open them until eight o’clock the next day.

Gigi still hadn't texted.

In fact, the only missed notifications that she had were from her own bandmates, celebrating booking a small secret set at a higher-scale bar in the city that they'd been eyeing for a while. It was hard to join in on their enthusiasm in the group chat, but Davvy faked it as best as she could, not wanting to bring any of them down with her own bad mood.

Exiting the message to peruse absentmindedly through her phone instead, Davvy played back some of the bits she'd recorded the night before, then, when inspiration didn't immediately strike, pulled up Instagram for some mindless scrolling instead. In a twist of fate, one of the first photos that she saw was Gigi's - on her personal page, not her band's - of her with the rest of Red Wedding huddled together on stage at Jack's the night before. 

Her embarrassment returned with a vengeance - of  _ course _ Gigi thought she was stalking her. The odds that she'd show up to the same bar on the same night after she'd asked for space to work were astronomical. Knowing that she might not be able to convince Gigi that she wasn't being a clingy weirdo made her feel even worse, so she quickly exited out of the app and opened up the Voice Memos again to focus on the melody she'd started the night before.

Whether it was the influx of strong feelings - even if they weren't pleasant - or the good night's sleep that she'd just had, Davvy found herself quickly progressing with the song from before. If there was only one good thing to come from the entire humiliating debacle, it was that she could at least, maybe, come up with a new hit. 

* * *

As much as she liked to blame herself - for almost everything, really - a combination of occasional therapy and reassurance from her loved ones had made it clear to Gigi that not everything was her fault all of the time. That wasn't to say that she wasn't irrational here and there - she was twenty-three years old, after all, and the occasional lapse of judgment wasn't something that the middle-aged adults that made up most of her social circle could properly fault her for. Unfortunately, she was no longer surrounded by those same adults; even her parents were MIA as they worked behind the scenes in the studio, and while it wasn't particularly easy to relate to her band-members, all around her own age, it was unfortunately too easy to relate to Davvy. She had to blame some of that relatability for why she had gone into her apartment five nights earlier and screamed giddily into her pillow, staring at her ceilings for hours and replaying their last (messy, tipsy) kiss over and over again in her head. 

She couldn't remember the last time she'd had that much fun - maybe when she was on stage, but that was hardly a fair comparison. Her stomach flipped excitedly every time she equated the feeling of catching the other woman's eye with the feeling of really connecting with a crowd during a great show. The way Davvy looked at her with heavy-lidded, darkened eyes when she made a particularly satisfying noise while they made love was as thrilling as the first reaction from a new audience when she tore into the first opening note of a song.

She was falling quickly. That realization had been followed by a lot less giddiness and a lot more terror.

So, she’d put a little distance between them - though that had hardly worked. She really hadn’t been intentionally ignoring her - focusing on the band was a good distraction from her own feelings; a way to take a quick breather and make sure she didn’t grab the other woman too tight, sink her fingers in, and scare her off. That was, until Davvy continued to break through those barriers, seemingly unbothered or unaware of the havoc she was wreaking on her. 

Gigi had been a  _ little  _ mean the other night - she could admit that. And she  _ had  _ jumped to conclusions, but she hadn’t heard from Davvy since then, so maybe it had been meant to fall apart, anyway. 

None of what had happened really helped her focus on songwriting, either. The band was getting a little antsy - what she needed was her dad, but she’d sworn she would be fine home alone for a few days and didn’t want to call him begging for him to come home like a little kid who had bitten off more than she could chew. 

Her phone chirped for her attention just as she settled in with her laptop at the kitchen table, ready to really put the work in on a new song, and she dove at it, grateful for the distraction and excuse. Davvy's name flashed on the screen and she wondered for a moment if she'd manifested the text out of pure worry, but pushed the thought away to open it.

It didn't contain an actual message, but instead a single link to an untitled voice memo, dated from the night before. 

Frowning curiously, she thumbed over the 'play' button and then cranked up the volume on her phone, leaning forward curiously as the audio crackled quietly and then gave way to a voice - Davvy's voice, specifically.

It sounded sad - but in a specific way that Gigi couldn’t quite put her fingers on. It was just simple vocalization, a melody without words for a few moments, and then it abruptly changed to Davvy’s speaking voice.

“- Okay, and then maybe some keys? Like…” she vocalized again, as if trying to mimic the sound of a keyboard, then said, “And then…” 

Then came the lyrics. 

Gigi quickly realized why the melody was 'sad, but different' - the lyrics were optimistic, if not a little beaten down. The song had a vibe of 'I know it'll get better - but only because it can't be worse'; it felt like the last year had.

"Okay, and then maybe a guitar solo, here? Because that note takes me out - I don't know about you."

Reaching over and locking her phone, Gigi silenced the other woman's voice abruptly and tented her fingers in front of her face, pressing them to her lips. It was perfect. She couldn't ignore it. In fact, the reminder that 'getting better because it can't get worse' so painfully applied to so many different areas of what her life and career had tanked to during her time in New York - and the knowledge that she always,  _ always _ fixed it - was what had her reaching for her phone again, and typing out a text to the other woman. If she was only going to do one brave thing that day, it would be this; she and Davvy couldn't get any worse, but that was only an opportunity to get better.

_ 'I love it,' _ she typed out. _ 'We should talk, too. Are you free right now?' _

She'd barely set her phone down when she got a reply.

_ Davvy: yes. _

_ Davvy: what do you need? _

Smiling at the other woman’s eagerness (maybe she’d missed her just as much), Gigi quickly responded with a time and the name of a cafe closer to Davvy’s place than her own, suggesting they meet for coffee. She almost expected a ‘no’ - especially with the memory of how she’d gone off on the other woman in  _ Jack’s _ the other night still burned into her brain - and was pleasantly surprised, if not excited, when Davvy agreed without argument.

Dropping everything she was doing to run back to her room and get dressed while simultaneously ordering an  _ Uber _ , Gigi made good time, and within a half-hour was sitting at an empty coffee table with a mug of hot water with lemon, waiting for Davvy, not unlike her very position a little over a week earlier.

This time, Davvy didn't leave her waiting nearly as long. She flew into the cafe like a hurricane, rushing to the table and already apologizing.

"I'm sorry, were you waiting long? I thought I had so much time because my alarm didn't go off but it was because my phone had died - you weren't trying to text, were you?"

"No," Gigi replied softly, taken aback a little by the other woman's flustered appearance, "It's fine, I -"

"Okay, before you say anything," Davvy continued, cutting her off, "I wanted to apologize. I mean - not for going to Jack's, that wasn't my bad - but just for making you feel weird about it, I guess. I meant it when I said I really just meant to go get a bite, I had no idea you guys were going to be there, but... I probably could have paid a little more attention to how it looked."

"No," Gigi shook her head and rolled her cup between her palms in a small nervous gesture. "That's not - I overreacted. I've just been stressed lately, not that that's an ex-"

"Right!" Davvy cut her off, gesturing almost wildly. "You've been stressed out. With your parents, and the new music, and I didn't mean to-"

"Stop interrupting me," Gigi replied, almost laughing at how animated the other woman was. "I'm stressed out because I can't stop thinking about you and it's ruining my concentration on everything else."

Davvy finally fell quiet, and it felt like most of the cafe did, too, but Gigi knew that no one was really paying them any attention. 

"I, um... it sort of scares me to try to focus on both at once - this," she gestured between them, "and my music. I tried that last time and... not only did my relationship fall apart, but so did my band. And my entire family, really. I don't want to do something irreparable like that, not again."

Dropping the other woman's gaze to focus on the single lemon seed that had escaped its wedge floating in her mug, she shrugged.

"Geej," Davvy's concerned frown was evident in her voice as she reached over and took her hand across the table. "That's not... that wasn't your fault." 

"I know that - I think I do, at least," she admitted. "But I can't shake that. And to be honest, it's not the cheating that I'm really hurt by, or any of Flash's other dumb shit. Not anymore, not when I'm with you."

"Flash and Ava are... immature, selfish assholes. They would have done some sort of stupid bullshit whether or not you were there. You were just collateral - and besides, your parents never would have had the real chance to reconnect if your dad was still with Ava, anyway - and she never would have been happy because she'd be hung up on some old fling."

Gigi nodded slowly. She could hear the words, but trying to internalize them was met with some kind of mental system-shutdown. That would be something for another therapy session; for now, she had more pressing matters to discuss. 

Squeezing Davvy's hand in return, she opened her mouth to blankly agree, but Davvy spoke first.

"If that's really all this is, we can take this slow. If you even want to do this - whatever will make you feel safer."

Looking up in alarm, Gigi shook her head quickly, the words spilling out of her before she could properly filter them.

"No. I don't want to take it slow, I want you to move in with me."

"What?"

Steeling herself, Gigi repeated,

"I want you to move in with me. That would make me feel better - at least for a while, I mean. I miss when you were around all of the time. Even if Flash was there, too, most of the time. I feel better having you around. That’s what makes me feel safe."

Davvy nodded slowly, pursing her lips.

"I have a lease."

"You hate your place," Gigi retorted.

"You're U-hauling," Davvy shot back.

"I don't know what that means," she replied honestly.

Pursing her lips even more, Davvy regarded her for a moment and then sighed. Gigi’s heart pounded on the inside of her ribs as she realized that she recognized that exact sigh - she’d won this round.

"I'll come spend a few nights. A trial period."

Resisting the urge to squeal and literally clap, Gigi nodded and sucked her lips into her mouth trying to keep the grin that she could feel coming on at bay.

"Don't look so smug. You know I'm a sucker for you."

Davvy rolled her eyes and Gigi laughed genuinely, too relieved to keep the bubbly feeling down any longer. Shooting out of her seat, she leaned across the table and kissed her; five days was five days too long.

* * *

**_TWO MONTHS LATER_ **

With an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, Manny gently grabbed Davvy by the shoulders to keep her out of the way and sidled behind her to grab Gigi's purse from its spot on top of one of the opening band's equipment cases.

"Hey," he caught her attention, handing the bag to her. "Could you get her pills out of here? She asked me to bring her one, but I don't want to go digging through a chick's purse."

Before Davvy could answer, Bo appeared and slapped the purse to Manny's chest playfully.

"Aw, that's pretty. Did you just get it?"

"Shut up, dickhead," the guitarist replied gruffly, pushing him aside harmlessly and handing the bag off to Davvy as she reached for it. "She's in the back," he told her.

They had been standing beside the stage, sneakily watching the crowd from the slight cover that the curtains provided, but Gigi had slipped off earlier citing that she needed air. Davvy couldn't blame her - it was a bigger crowd than Red Wedding had played in the last couple of months, and would be the first time Gigi was performing something she'd written herself in an even longer period of time. Sighing and hiking the purse up over her shoulder, Davvy left the band in the wing and headed over to where Manny had gestured, trying to track down her girlfriend.

She found her leaned against the wall between two posters: an old, half-torn-down Assassins poster and another that Davvy didn't recognize.

"Hey, everything okay?"

Gigi looked up from her phone and frowned, a blush heating her cheeks quickly.

"I told Manny to get that." She nodded to her bag.

"I know," Davvy replied easily, hiking it up even further instead of handing it to her. "What's going on?"

"Just... getting some air before we go on." 

“Alright guys, let’s go!” Manny called, but Davvy ignored him.

"You look a little nervous," she observed knowingly, cutting through the haze of faux-boredom that the other woman was clearly trying to shroud herself in.

"I'm not," Gigi snapped defensively, looking immediately embarrassed for her tone as soon as the words left her mouth. "I mean..."

Dropping the purse unceremoniously onto the floor, Davvy stepped a little closer and smoothed a single piece of hair off of Gigi's face slowly.

"C'mere."

"I'm  _ not _ ," Gigi repeated insistently, falling quiet when Davvy shushed her and leaned in even closer, pressing her forehead to hers gently.

"Well, even though you're  _ totally  _ not nervous, I'm reminding you anyway - you're going to be great. The new song is going to sound even more unreal live, everyone out there is going to ascend to another realm of spiritual existence, you're going to look like a total rockstar - and then after, we can go home and watch Game of Thrones on the DVR. Because I'm that proud of you."

Gigi bit her lip, trying and failing to focus on the other woman's face properly when they were so close together.

"Both episodes?" She questioned.

"Both episodes," Davvy replied, albeit a little defeatedly. "In our bed. With ice cream. Sound like a good night?"

Gigi nodded, dipping forward to kiss her when she heard the squeal of a guitar on stage, and the sounds of the crowd growing even more reckless and excited.

"You got this," Davvy promised, stepping back to let her go and watching as she headed over to the small set of stairs leading up to the stage.

Grinning - giddily, now, instead of nervous - over her shoulder, Gigi vanished behind the curtain onto the stage.

Scooping her bag up from the floor for her, Davvy listened as the crowd exploded, the sound being cut through by Gigi's voice over the microphone.

_ “How’re we doing tonight, Brooklyn?” _


End file.
